Dominant
by Lynn Jones
Summary: What happens when Alyssa Fox, a twenty-four-year-old dog trainer hiking in the Appalachians, is attacked by a werewolf - and becomes one herself? Not only is she a dominant female...she's dominant enough to fight her way free of her pack. on hold for my lack of inspiration
1. Change

Disclaimer: I do not own any of Patricia Briggs's characters, ideas, etc.

Chapter One: Change

The Rocky Mountains may be rougher on human hikers, but the Appalachians are tougher…on werewolves. And on humans who irritate them.

This I found out last night. The wolves "came out" a few years ago, but I didn't know there were any in the area where I was camping. After all, what wolf would want to live in an area where the largest prey is a pheasant? The wolf who hunts people, of course.

I had just about finished my hike for the day and was on my way back to my camp when I heard wolves howling.

_Weird for them to be out already; it's only five o'clock,_ I thought, strolling through the trees. Then, suddenly, a huge black wolf as tall at the head as my shoulder lunged at me. His amber eyes glinted, and since he was so big, I couldn't believe I'd missed him in the virtually non-existent undergrowth. I screamed and ran. The wolf caught me an instant later.

I woke in a haze of agony. My stomach, arms, legs…everything hurt. There was blood everywhere – mine. But I wasn't bleeding; my wounds had closed. They hurt like heck, but they had closed. I winced as I tried to sit up. What happened? Had I fallen? I gasped in pain as I rolled to my knees, then forced myself to my feet. Oh, yeah. The wolf. It attacked me…and left me alive. Why? Why the attack? And why not kill me? I stumbled a few feet towards my camp and fell. It was getting dark. A full moon shone overhead.

All at once, fresh pain – not from my fading wounds – ripped through me. I screamed again, even though I was distantly afraid it would bring the huge black wolf back. I fell, and something wet-sounding popped. Excruciating pain. Pure agony.

_Get up. Must get up. Must not be laying down when they come._ The thought was mine, but then again it wasn't. _Get up!_ I stumbled up – on four legs. I cried out – and my voice sang like a wild thing in pain. But then, that was what I was. Wild. In pain. Wild with pain. I ran; it seemed to help. At first I was clumsy on my huge, clawed paws, but I quickly got used to it. _Run. They come._ Again, the thought was mine – but not. I could smell them, though.

And that scared me. I could smell them coming. And they smelled like wolves. Then they were all around me; the black one, who was obviously in charge; a brindled brown and black male, who slunk at the black one's side; a tiny, creeping, silver-furred one. The tiny one called out to the newfound wildness in me. I stepped forward. The black one blocked my way.

_He thinks he is boss. He is not boss. He will never be our boss._ Our boss? The wildness – the wolf – in me snarled. _We will teach him his place, make him pay for hurting the small one._ For I could scent the small silver wolf's pain and fear, and I could sense from his movements and the way he flinched every time the black one moved that he was the cause of the silver's pain.

I lunged, and the brindled wolf slammed into me. I slipped passed him, got between him and the silver wolf. I took a defensive posture, head down, ears back, snarling, waiting. The black wolf came on; the brindled rushed at his side. When they reached me a heartbeat later, I was ready.


	2. Charles

Disclaimer: Still don't own any of Briggs' stuff.

Chapter 2: Charles

It was always a bad thing when Bran called him in the middle of the night, reflected Charles as he scooped up his hysterical cell phone and flipped it open.

"Yeah?"

"Charles, I need you to go to the Appalachians. I think it's a rogue wolf." Okay. Really not good.

"Da? Are there even any wolves in the Appalachians?" Charles asked.

"Apparently." Charles sighed. He glanced over at his mate, who was laying awake, listening.

"All right. When?"

I sighed and settled down. The silver wolf was curled up in the shallow cavern formed by the twisting roots of a hemlock tree, watching me. I sighed again. I'd taken him from the black and brindled wolves, and they'd been hunting us ever since. It had been almost a week. We'd changed back to human only once – long enough for me to discover the awkward fact that the change left you without clothes, and that his name was Blake Somody. He had been attacked the same way I was. And the other wolves had attacked him again and again to try and force him to stay with them when he'd tried to follow another hiker who'd passed through the area.

A twig snapped. The scent of an alien wolf drifted through the woods. I growled, low and threatening. This may not be my home in Virginia, but this strange wolf was too close to my Blake for my liking. Blake was mine. It was my job to protect him. And no one was getting anywhere near him if they meant him harm.

_Left,_ said the part of me that was wolf. Over the past few days, I'd learned to trust the wolf part of me in battle and in matters of scent. It was always right. I faced the oncoming threat in a crouch.

The wolf who emerged from the trees was rust-red, and twice my size. His deep amber eyes glowed in the early morning light. I growled again, warning him to keep his distance. He growled back, then took a step toward where Blake crouched. I attacked.

Charles regarded the slim white she-wolf before him curiously. Her scent was the one he'd found in the camp of the missing hiker, near the site of a werewolf attack – and the site of a later battle between three wolves.

_She wants to fight,_ Brother Wolf observed. Charles agreed; the smaller wolf was indeed preparing herself for a battle. He saw she favored one leg, as though she was still recovering from an injury there. _She is dominant. Very dominant._ Again, Charles had to agree. He took a step toward her – and she attacked. He reacted instinctively, shouldering her aside. She leapt back, keeping herself in front of him. She lunged again – and this time her fangs sank into his shoulder. He tried to shake her off. She held on. He twisted to seize her foreleg in his jaws and bit down. She let go of his shoulder with a yelp and slashed at his muzzle with her catlike claws. He opened his mouth, and she darted around to nip his flank, then dashed back in front of him again. He decided to try to get around her. She fought to stay between him and…something.

A worried yip distracted her from the fight. Charles noticed her glance over her shoulder. He should take this opportunity, attack, subdue her…but then he scented something out of place.

_Submissive? Here?_ He thought. It didn't fit. Nothing fit. He'd thought it was a rogue werewolf who'd attacked a couple hikers. Instead he found two wolves, one of whom was very dominant and had seen some battle in the less-than-a-week since her Change, and the other who was submissive, and wouldn't attack anything unprovoked. Something didn't fit.

_ Behind you_, Brother Wolf warned. Charles whirled and found two wolves racing toward him: one black and one brindled. As one they slammed into him. He snapped, drove them back. Then the small white she-wolf tore into the black one, who yelped and backed away. Charles swatted aside the brindled one and watched as the white and black wolves fought savagely. Here was the source of the wolf-scent at the place where the second hiker – the female, the one who smelled like this white wolf – had been attacked.

The brindled wolf wriggled out from under the massive russet paw Charles and planted on him to keep him still and lunged for the white wolf – who whipped around and caught him in her jaws, shook him once, and dropped him to meet the black wolf's charge. The sub – delicate silver – crept out, whimpering. The white wolf barked sharply, and the silver backed away. And Charles thought he understood.

The black and brindled wolves fled, but he didn't give chase. Instead, he turned and trotted back to the hiker's camp to fetch the backpack that had been left there. He had a feeling the white wolf would want it very shortly.


	3. Trainer Fox

Chapter 3: Trainer Fox

I stayed where I was, even though the huge russet wolf had left. Even though the brindled and black wolves had left. Blake whined softly, worried. I turned my head to regard him solemnly. He whined again, a question this time. I waffled quietly in response, shifted to let him survey my pelt, to reassure him I was all right. Blake sighed and sat beside me. I eyed him disapprovingly. He should be back in the hemlock-root cave, where he was relatively safe.

"Here. Change." I looked up sharply. The man – he looked like a Native American – held out my pack. I snorted. I was just fine in my four-footed form, thank you. I could fight much better like this, protect my silver wolf much better like this. He smelled like the russet wolf. "Come on; I'm not going to hurt you – or your silver friend," he assured me.

_That's all well and good, but what about the others?_ Asked the wolf. I glared around suspiciously. Were they nearby?

"The others are gone," the man told me. Blake, beside me, shivered. Wolf he might be, but his fur was thinner than mine – the fur of a southern wolf-breed rather than a mountain wolf. That decided me. I shook myself, then paced forward to take my pack from the man. I glared at him, then flicked an ear at Blake, then growled softly. _Mine_, I was telling him. His lips quirked upward. "Don't worry. Just change so we can talk." I growled one more time, then trotted behind one of the huge hemlocks to change and dress.

Charles stared after the white she-wolf for a moment, until he heard her begin her Change. Then he focused on the silver wolf, who remained where she had left him.

"So tell me, how did you come to be all furry and four-legged?" Charles asked the wolf. He didn't expect a reply, but the little silver submissive gave him and icy, disdainful look and snapped his jaws once before stretching out on the forest floor.

"The black wolf Changed the rest of us." He jerked his head up; he hadn't heard or scented the white wolf's return. The human woman who stepped around the hemlock was of average height, with light, wavy brown hair and crystal-cold blue eyes. "And once he realized I wasn't going to be a part of his pack, he wanted to kill me rather than let me go off on my own."

"And the fact that you took the sub with you didn't help a bit," Charles added. "Who are you?" She hesitated, glancing at the silver wolf.

"My name is Alyssa Fox," she told him finally. "Who are you, redwolf?" She'd recognized him outside of his wolf shape. Interesting.

"My name is Charles Cornick. I'm the Marrok's second," he answered. That had little to no effect on her. "You don't know how this whole werewolf thing works, do you?" he realized. She shook her head.

"I know the Marrok is a mystery wolf who bosses around publicized wolves like that Adam guy out West. I know Blackie's bad and Blake needs protection, and I know the Change hurts like hell," she said. "And I know that Blake is all the pack I have. And that's about it." Charles sighed and ran a hand through his hair. This was going to be even more complicated than he'd thought.

I usually love making things hard for people, especially people who don't take proper care of those they're supposed to stand up for. But this time, when the redwolf-in-human-shape, Charles, sighed and grimaced like I'd just made his life five hundred percent harder, I didn't feel my usual smug satisfaction. After all, he hadn't attacked me; I'd attacked him. Or rather, my wolf had.

"Look. A giant black werewolf attacked me. I've been spending my time on four feet with a built-in fur coat. I usually try to stay away from supernatural canines," I said apologetically. The normal canines, I loved; they were my life. But wolves that doubled as humans? That might be fun to read about, but only in science fiction books where they were comfortingly bound by the ink and paper. Granted, I'd known there were werewolves; they'd come out quite a while ago, but I never expected to meet one. Or be one.

"Alyssa Fox," redwolf muttered suddenly, staring at me hard. "The dog trainer?" I also hadn't expected one to know my name.

"Um. Yes?" I glanced at Blake. He helpfully twisted around to snag a burr out of his fur with his long white fangs. "I train dogs. Why?"

"You're the one who trained that dog a while back that attacked a werewolf trying to Change its owner," he said. Oh, boy. Maybe I should have expected a werewolf to know my name.

"Yeah, that would be me," I admitted. "And a pity about the whole dog-boy-lost-control-and-killed-my-dog thing. Thunder was a sweet dog – except, apparently, when it came to giant wolfies tearing up his owner." I sighed. Thunder had been one of my favorites. "And really, I hope whoever's in charge of disciplining bad dogs in your pack gave that guy a whipping." It had been all over the news: Crazed Werewolf Attacks Woman. Dog Attacks Werewolf On Rampage. Woman Dies In Werewolf Attack. That kind of thing. That was why I'd gone hiking in the mountains; to get away from people who were either looking for dogs that would attack werewolves or looking for someone to blame because the dog hadn't attacked fast enough, and the woman had died.

"Thunder?" That bit of information caught redwolf's attention. "was that the dog's name?"

"Big, friendly golden retriever/German shepherd mix who went off on a werewolf last month?" I confirmed. "That's him. Best dog I ever trained." Then one of my earlier comments caught up with him.

"Wait a minute. 'Whoever's in charge of disciplining bad dogs in my pack'?" he spluttered. "You make us sound like puppies who peed on the floor!" Blake huffed a laugh and shook out his pelt, looking up at me with an expression I'd seen on many a canine's face.

"Don't tell me you peed on my floor," I groaned theatrically at him. He barked, happy that I'd understood his joke despite the fur and pointy teeth. Redwolf looked back and forth between us and shook his head.

"Look. I came out here to take care of a rogue wolf. You two need a pack with an Alpha that'll teach you the ropes of being wolves. I'm going to go handle the two who Changed you, then come back to pick you up. Stay here," redwolf ordered. I snorted.

"Like hell," I snapped. "I want a piece of Blackie. I'm coming with you. Blake can stay here or tag along, either way. But don't think you can march in here, announce we need someone to boss us around, and then order us to stay like we're too impatient to wait for the release command before we lunge for the food bowl!" Oh, great. I was in full Trainer Fox Mode now. I was speaking to a giant werewolf like he was one of my training assistants – one of the annoying new ones that thought he or she could train dogs better than me.

He looked at me. His eyes weren't Native-American dark anymore. They were wolf-yellow. I stared back.

_He is not our boss,_ my wolf growled.

_Oh, gee, thanks for finally showing up to back me up,_ I thought back. The wolf responded by growling – not at me, but at the redwolf.

Charles growled back.

_This upstart pup is _not_ going to get away with talking to me like that,_ Brother Wolf snarled. But she kept staring at him, her eyes not longer ice-crystal-blue. They shone as amber as he knew his own were. And he found himself…lowering his head. Without conscious thought, he tilted said lowered head so his throat was exposed. She nodded sharply, and the amber faded back to blue.

_This is definitely going to be more interesting than I thought,_ Charles admitted. He just hoped "interesting" was the right word, and not something like "deadly".

**Well, that's chapter 3. it took me forever to upload (sorry!) but i finally got it done. **

**Thanks to everyone who's reviewed!** **And please keep reviewing! But, fair warning, any flames will be used the next time I want s'mores.**


	4. Stronger

**Wow, it's been forever since I updated this story. Sorry. I've been working on Transformers projects. But I just got **_**Fair Game,**_** so I have been inspired to continue with Alyssa's story.**

**I sometimes wish I owned a werewolf, but most of these belong to Patricia Briggs.**

Chapter 4: Stronger

(Alyssa's POV)

I watched the russet wolf – Charles – as he tracked the two wolves that had turned Blake and me. He moved like he'd done this before – which I supposed he had. He moved like one of my trackers, but with more grace. As if sensing my scrutiny, he glanced back over one rust-red shoulder and regarded me for a long moment. I let him. Then, impatient to get on with the hunt, I met his gaze and growled softly to let him know it was time to keep moving. His ears went back. Mine did not. I narrowed my eyes instead and curled my lip. He looked away.

_He is very dominant,_ my wolf murmured. _But if he crosses us, he will learn that we are stronger than him. _She sounded almost sympathetic when she added, _that wily old wolf hasn't met many who can stand up against him, let alone a wolf who can make him look away._

_Surprises keep the senses sharp. If he's old enough that we bother him, he needs to learn more tricks to keep him on his toes,_ I replied, allowing a wolfish grin to show on my wolfish face. Blake, trotting at my shoulder, nudged me gently. I turned and he flicked his ears worriedly at Charles, then at me.

_He wants to know if we're going to fight that relic again, _my wolf guessed. I nipped Blake's silvery shoulder and did a wolf's version of a shrug – a twitch of my shoulder fur. Which was a bit sore, like the rest of me, from Changing so often in the past hour or so. Human and back was a lot for me in so short a time – though the redwolf didn't seem to have any trouble with it.

(Normal POV)

Charles growled inwardly – but made absolutely sure that the white she-pup behind him didn't notice. He'd stopped to look at her, trying to figure out what to do with her and her sub once these two rogues were taken care of, but she'd clearly ordered him back to tracking. And he'd obeyed.

_Playing along and humoring pups in order to keep harmony in the pack must be dome sometimes,_ Brother Wolf rumbled. Charles agreed. But he knew neither he nor his wolf-brother was humoring this pup. She had real dominance – so much of it that he'd bared his throat to her. And that made him uncomfortable.

The sub growled. Charles twisted around to see what it was about and saw a lithe black shape slinking through the trees. How had that rogue gotten so close without Charles smelling him? The white she-wolf that was the dog trainer – which was another thing that puzzled him, a dog trainer so far from her dogs – kept trotting, flicking the sub with her tail and glancing at Charles in a clear order to keep moving. What was she thinking? Couldn't she smell the rogue?

`_I do not like this,_ Brother Wolf growled. But the dog trainer in her new white fur coat was glaring at them, so they kept moving. The black rogue suddenly charged, and the white she-wolf leaped impossibly far to intercept him and send him sprawling. Charles caught the scent of fox, and realized that the black had disguised his scent with fox dung or blood – possibly both.

This was no new rogue who'd left his pack and lost control, Charles realized. This wolf was in control – or he wanted to be. And that made him more dangerous, but nothing Charles couldn't handle.

(Alyssa's POV)

I bowled the black wolf over and let him go when he rolled to get away from me. I didn't care where he went, as long as he left Blake – and the redwolf – alone. We were hunting him, true, but I wanted him and his skinny brown crony. And the brown would bolt if the black died.

Blackie tried to get past me, intent on attacking Charles for some reason. I wasn't about to allow that, so I used my shoulder to slam him away. I braced myself for his next charge, ruff bristling and ears back.

_Mine._ I was more dominant than the redwolf. Therefore he was mine to protect. It was my right, and I was claiming that right. The black wolf was below me as well, but he had threatened me and my wolves – my Blake and my redwolf – hurt me and hurt Blake – and he would not live long enough to learn from his mistake. I snarled, this newfound knowledge and need to protect fueling my need to punish this wolf for what he had done to me and mine. I was debating whether to rip his throat out, gut him, or snap his neck when two more wolves approached.

One was a black she-wolf with ice-blue eyes. She was small for a werewolf, and slender rather than the bulky build that redwolf and the two I was hunting shared. And thinking of the ones I was hunting…the brown wolf trotted just behind the black she-wolf.

I fought to keep my attention on Blackie One, who was the main threat – I could feel it – but Blackie Two – the female – called for my protection even more than redwolf and Blake combined. And Brownie called for killing. Then Charles, my redwolf, started to step forward to greet Blackie Two.

I snapped my head around to glare at him. I growled to get his attention, and flicked an ear to let him know he was to stay put, where I knew where he was so I could do my job and protect him. Blackie Two narrowed her eyes at me and her lip curled in the beginnings of a snarl. Taking advantage of the distraction I'd tried so hard to avoid, Brownie and Blackie charged. Brownie tackled Blackie Two, and Blackie One charged the redwolf, who he obviously considered a bigger threat than me.

_Redwolf is ours,_ my wolf snarled. I leaped forward and shouldered Blackie One off course, then shoved him with my shoulder hard enough that he fell. I seized his neck in my lovely new crushing jaws and jerked my head violently, snapping his neck. I let him drop and then faced Brownie, who had Blackie Two pinned.

As much as my Blake called for my protection, Blackie Two suddenly called to me even more. My wolf surged against my control, indignant that Brownie would dare harm this she-wolf. I turned my head and met the redwolf's gaze. And I understood. He was mine to protect, though he didn't consider himself as such, and she was his to protect. But he knew I was more dominant than him. He lowered his head in a barely visible show of surrendering the situation to me.

Our wolves understood each other in that moment. I began stalking toward Brownie, head low and threatening. Brownie tensed and lowered his own muzzle in a much greater threat. His fangs brushed the soft fur on Blackie Two's neck. The message was clear: if I came closer than he liked, he would kill Two in a heartbeat. His amber eyes met my cold blue ones, challenging me to charge and give him an excuse to kill Two.

I stopped where I was and drew myself up. It was like catching an untrained dog who didn't want to be caught. I would distract them – sometimes with food, sometimes with my presence, like I was doing now – and someone else – usually a junior trainer who didn't have the experience to play distracter – would grab the wayward mutt from behind. I never took my eyes off Brownie, never let him direct his attention elsewhere.

That's why he never saw Charles coming. The enormous redwolf's jaws clamped down on the back of Brownie's neck, crunched, and flung his limp form several yards away before the other wolf knew what hit him. But then, I doubt Brownie cared what hit him by that point.

The black she-wolf got to her paws and shook out her fur calmly, like she hadn't just been attacked by a raging brown werewolf. Her clear blue eyes rested on me, and suddenly they were icy rage. And I understood. She might belong to my redwolf, but he also belonged to her, and she didn't like that I'd stopped him from greeting her, then made him save her my way. I tilted my head, curious about this wolf who could more than likely take care of herself if she and redwolf belonged to each other, yet practically screamed for protection.

Blake whimpered. I turned my back on the black she-wolf and trotted to his side. He was shaking. I nuzzled his shoulder reassuringly, and he quieted. I looked back at the redwolf – Charles. He met my searching gaze for a few heartbeats, then looked away. I huffed. We needed to talk, and I didn't want to Change back and go through all that pain to have that talk while naked.

So I turned and trotted back toward where I'd first met the redwolf – which also happened to be where I'd left my clothes when I'd Changed so we could track the brown and black wolves.

**Well, there's chapter 4. Hope everyone likes it. Please r&r! Flames will be used to burn any vampires I don't like.**


	5. What Now?

**Again with the super-long hiatus from this story! I'm sorry!**

**Anyway, as much as I wish I owned these lovely characters, Blake and Alyssa are the only ones who are mine. **

Chapter 5 – What Now?

By the time I'd Changed and dressed (again), my body was informing me in no uncertain terms that I would NOT be Changing back to wolf in the next week, or it would rebel. I, of course, ignored this information. Blake whined from his place among the hemlock roots where he'd been hiding when the redwolf first showed up.

Charles, the redwolf, had joined us in human form. Blackie Two, the female, stood beside him. I surveyed them silently for a moment, then sat down on the forest floor. The wolf in me didn't like having my head lower than the redwolf's, but I squashed the wolf for once.

_Dominating redfwolf makes the black female uncomfortable,_ I reminded my inner wolf. _And she must be protected, too._

"Where's your silver friend?" Charles asked softly. Blake bounded out of the shelter of the hemlock and skidded to a stop beside me, panting happily. He nudged my shoulder in puppyish glee, and I let him bowl me over – though I wrapped and arm around his silver-gray shoulders and pulled him with me. He yelped, and I laughed before righting both of us.

"Here he is," I said unnecessarily. Charles showed no sign of amusement, but I grinned unrepentantly at his stern expression. "So who's your black-furred friend?"

"This is Anna, my mate," he rumbled. I studied the slender black she-wolf for a moment, then ducked my head to her.

"Hello, Anna. My name is Alyssa." I had to keep the wolf from adding, _it is our honor to protect you._

_You sound like a medieval knight,_ I complained to my wolf. The wildness inside of me snorted and retreated.

"So, redwolf, what happens now?" I asked, focusing on him again. "The wolves who Changed Blake and I are dead." He tilted his head.

"You know, Trainer Fox, I wonder is you would like to see Montana? The Marrok will be eager to meet you," he told me.

"Big, mysterious boss wolfy. Right. Why would he want to see me?" I muttered. Charles raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe because of who and what you are?" he replied pointedly. I grimaced.

"Point to you. So the Marrok lives in Montana?" I added slyly.

"Aspen Creek," he answered without thinking. Then he scowled at me, and his mate snarled. I flapped a hand at her.

"Sorry, Miss Anna – or would that be Mrs. Redwolf?" I added. Blake nudged me again, this time not to play, but to get my attention.

"What is it?" I murmured, turning to him. He whined softly and butted me with his furry head. I tangled my fingers in his ruff. "All right. I understand." I looked up at Charles again. "I'll go to Montana to meet the Marrok. But I'm going back to my dogs. I won't give up my entire life just because Blackie One stuck his filthy teeth into me. And Blake stays with me unless he wants to go somewhere else," I added, knowing that was what Blake had been trying to tell me – that he didn't want to go anywhere else. Charles seemed to think this over for a minute.

"Very well," he sighed finally. He glanced down at the black she-wolf. "I don't supposed you have a way to get four werewolves off this mountain and to Aspen Creek before she decides she'd rather check on her precious dogs first?" he asked playfully. Anna gave him A Look. Capital A, capitol L. I laughed.

"I think you have just mildly insulted your lady, redwolf," I told him with mock seriousness. "You must repent." The black she-wolf eyed me suspiciously. I grinned. "Oh, don't mind me, Anna. I'm just a dog trainer and now a part-time wolf."

**Okay, so, that's all I've got for now, but if people review, and if I manage to get my hands on an A & O or Mercy Thompson book sometime this week, I might update again.**

**Flames will be used to keep cold wolfies warm this winter.**


End file.
